Prompts and More Prompts
by pride-and-loyalty
Summary: Percy and Annabeth, having the greatest love story ever, could've met up in a million different ways. And who knows? Would they love each other in every single one? This is a collection of Percabeth oneshots, based on some prompts. They're short stories, really fluffy, and totally fangirl-worthy. If anyone likes a prompt, feel free to adopt.
1. Cafe Meeting

**Okay, I'm kind of on a roll here. Which is pretty different from having REALLY long breaks between updating. Someone in the back: *coughs loudly* Okay, no more weird jokes. This is a series of oneshots about prompts I came up with. I don't really feel like making them into huge stories, but they are interesting prompts, so yeah, here we are.**

 **Like I said in the summary, a lot of these are up for adoption. I do really hope some of these ideas will get picked up. Because developing writing skills takes practice and I want to see the talent you guys have. Also, if none of these are adopted, it means my ideas are dumb :). Kidding. Chapters like this one are plain oneshots. So you guys will get both writing opportunities and stuff to just read.**

 **Lastly, I'll stick a summary in for each oneshot I write per chapter. That would make more sense for everybody, right?**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Annabeth is a developing businesswoman who doesn't have time for anyone and Percy is the barista who struggles to keep up with all his work and remain chill-**

Percy

Percy drummed his fingers on the steel countertop, impatiently waiting for the cappuccino machine to stop hissing foam. After a too-long wait, he yanked the mug out from under the nozzle, squirted syrup in it, and messily dusted the foamy top with cocoa power before dropping it onto the front counter.

"Here you go," he muttered to the bothersome customer bended over her phone. He continued to drum his fingers until she slowly lifted a few crumpled bills from her purse and handed it him. Percy struggled with the register before sprinkling change and a receipt into her hand.

She looked him in the eye for the first time with impatient dark brown eyes. Then she crumpled it all into her palm, yanked her coffee off the desk like _he_ was the slow one, and hurried off to a table.

Percy sighed, leaning against the cold stone counter. He used to love this café and was so excited to come to work every day. The owner, Jules, would treat him to blue smoothies all the time-on the house, and he could chat with people from all over his small town. And then, at some point, things changed. He didn't know why. But his customers were far more grumpy than usual, all of them hogging up the long line, and ordered extremely complex coffees just to be ostentatious. It was horrible. He didn't even have anyone to talk to anymore, except for the mostly-asleep adolescent janitor named Clovis. But Clovis preferred stealing milk directly from the cartons to talking.

He was about to sigh again when some loudly rapped the countertop. He glanced up to see a tall, polished-looking man in a suit with a frilly little girl on his arm. His mind wandered, imagining why such an old pair would come to this small café. Maybe he got divorced and this girl was split between him and her mom. No, too sad. Perhaps he was generous and adopted her from an overcrowded orphanage.

Percy was about to warmly smile at them when the man stopped exclaiming the menu. "I want a low-fat, sugar-free, cream-free, low-fat soy milk, slow-roasted coffee beans vanilla latte with a medium-sized Earl Grey tea, no sugar, no cream, and one teaspoon of milk. I also want a cocoa mocha caramel Frappuccino with medium-sugar and organic low-fat milk and cinnamon and cocoa power on top," he announced, rapid-fast.

Percy's eyes bulged. He barely heard half of that, and he was sure that if he got one thing wrong the man would dump his expensive coffee and order a new, fancier one. "Um, can you repeat that?" He got an empty notepad, ready to scribble everything down.

The man sighed heavily, cast a quick look at the little girl, and repeated everything at the same hurried pace. Percy had to flip his page multiple times in order to copy everything down. Then he rushed over to the working counter, grabbed all sorts of containers, and got to work. Every nice thought he had about the man and his daughter flew out of his mind as he carefully measured the sugar and milk and dumped it into the slow-roasted coffee.

Finally he carried three heavy to-go cups to the counter. Annoyance flared inside his mind as the man carefully checked the labels on the sides. But then his eye caught on a framed photo underneath the counter. It was of a grinning woman with long brown hair. His mother. He was about to smile before one of her favorite sayings popped into mind. _Don't be ungrateful, child. You have so much, and even if there are trials you need to be nice to others._ He always used to think that was too hard and kind of ridiculous.

But he did listen to his mother since he was a huge mama's boy. So he calculated the price of the drinks and offered the receipt to the man with a small smile. He crisply grabbed it and led the small girl outside without a word.

Percy sighed again. He would never understand how his mother had it in her to be nice to everyone.

When he was wiping down his work counter and putting away the low-fat milk containers, the bell above the door jingled and the annoying sound of heels clacked closer and closer. Percy slowly turned, expecting to see a posh businesswoman.

And he did. But he didn't. The woman in front of him did have cold gray eyes and a tailored silk suit, but there was something different about her. But her eyes were actually a glittering gray that reminded him of awestriking storm brewing in a darkening sky. Maybe it was the sparse wrinkles around her eyes, laugh wrinkles. Or maybe it was the streak of unseemly but pretty gray hair among her ruler-straight platinum blond hair. She was also unearthly beautiful. Her cheekbones were raised and sharp, jutting over full cheeks, and her lips were full and painted a pale pink. And while her hands were manicured and elegant, they were curled up within one another. Despite her intimidating glare and her proudly raised chin, Percy wanted to pull her hands into his.

That thought didn't even dissipate when she narrowed her calculating metal eyes at him. "Hello," she said coldly. Her voice wasn't the stony type he heard from other businesswomen. It was light and feminine, though trying to sharp. "Can you make my coffee quickly?"

Percy nodded, trying to not seem too eager. He poised his pen over his notepad. "What is your order?"

She rattled off a longer list than the man from before had. Percy's head ached just by looking at his messy scribbles. He slowly turned to his work counter and grabbed the coffeepot. Might as well start somewhere.

Five minutes into making her coffee, he had forgotten all about her wide lips and angel wing-tipped eyes and possible niceness. Instead, he was completely irritated. Her order was ridiculously long and complicated. She should've gone to a Starbucks instead for something like this. He wasn't even sure if they had all the stuff she required.

"Are you done? I have things to do," she called from behind him, in an impatient voice.

And then Percy felt something inside him snap.

"No, sorry, but you asked for a lot." He whirled around, his eyes narrowed into angry slits. "If you don't have time, get a simple latte. Don't order this!" He waved his notepad in her face. "No one can make this in five minutes!"

Her soft lips widened into an "o". Her gray eyes darkened many tones. "I expected a professional here," she said icily. "I'll go somewhere else, then." She glared right back and was about to spin on her five-inch heel.

But then his mother's voice annoyingly popped into Percy's head. _I asked to you be nice, child. What is this, then? Who knows what this poor girl is going through._ Percy sighed through his teeth and reached out to take her thin wrist. It was warm and oh-so-soft.

She gaped at him, too surprised to be angry. "Are you-what-don't you dare—" she stuttered out.

Percy looked her dead in the eye. They were so pretty and shocked. "No, look, sorry." He paused before barging on. "I want to apologize for being so rude. It's all my fault. You don't deserve to be yelled at. You don't deserve to be judged. And that's what I did." He sighed for the umpteenth time that morning. "Sorry."

Curiosity spilled into her dove gray pupils. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Um, Percy." He pointed to his name tag.

She blushed a little before continuing. "Well, Percy, that's the first time in my life someone apologized because _I_ was behaving inappropriately." She swallowed a little and Percy could help but watch her long, graceful neck. "It's my fault for being impatient and petulant. I do deserve to be judged. Sorry for bothering you."

On some hidden impulse, he released her wrist and, instead, slid his fingers into hers. They both stared at their entwined fingers in shock. Percy was the first to clear his throat. "It's just, I want you to stay. You're not bothering me-you're-you're perfect." He mumbled.

She blushed, hard. It was a startingly comparison to her tan skin. "You are too," she whispered, her eyes trained on the countertop.

He wasn't sure who was blushing the hardest right now. After an eternity of embarrassment and giddiness and the feeling of floating, they looked back at one another. "Let's start over," the girl said. "Hi, I'm Annabeth Chase. Can I get a simple to-go latte?"

Percy laughed. "Sure." He longingly gazed at her before pulling his fingers away from hers slowly and taking a step back. After giving her one last look, he turned, discarded her original cup, and started making her latte.

"Wait!" she called.

He spun around, surprised. Annabeth was grinning in a way that made him happy and suspicious at the same time. "What?"

Her eyes were wide and sparkling. "What's your name?"

Percy rolled his eyes. He shot her a look, like, a _re you seriously going this far,_ and she nodded excitedly. "I'm Percy Jackson," he told her, shaking her hand. It was so nice and soft.

"Great. Nice to meet you, Percy." Then she gestured for him to continue making her coffee.

Just as he pulled her cup from the machine, Annabeth cried "Wait!" again.

He spun around with an amused eyebrow raised. "Now wait?"

Annabeth reached over the counter, grabbed his collar, and pulled him to her lips. Fireworks exploded in his head and suddenly his heartbeat seemed to be saying, _Annabeth Annabeth Annabeth Annabeth_. Her lips were softer than anything and he couldn't think about anything but that.

They broke apart too quickly, gasping for air. Percy leaned his forehead on hers and noted how beautifully gray her eyes were.

"Hey! Can I get a coffee? Wuh-OH!" Another customer who just entered yelled.

They laughed and broke apart. Annabeth pulled her fingers from his hair and grinned. "I don't have anything else to ask from you. Where's my latte?"

He thumbed her flushed cheeks. "Coming right up." He turned, capped her cup, and dropped it onto the counter. Once he handed her the receipt, she made a move to grab her cup, but he pushed her fingers away.

"One second," he told her. He grabbed a marker from under the counter and scribbled on the side, "To Annabeth, with love x."

Annabeth eagerly took her drink when he was done and read his message with bright eyes. And then she pulled him into another kiss that caused to other customer to groan.

 **Alright, that's pretty much it. Oh jeez, this is short. But not too bad, right? I'm actually kind of impressed with the meaningful stuff I put inside. Usually I'm like all fluff and no material. So I'm definitely impressed and proud of this.**

 **You know, I might even write this in Annabeth's POV. Since its still sort of unclear what's happening with her, and she had to swallow her pride to apologize to Percy, so yeah, pretty interesting stuff.**

 **But I do have a bunch of ideas for other chapters ( piggyhero, yes, in a list ;)) and I hope you'll enjoy them. AND, with luck, I'll restart my fluffy series. Don't check out the old chapters they're long and pointless. I'll delete them soon.**

 **So yeah bye I got lunch.**

 **Au revoir,**

 **Pride-and-loyalty**


	2. Underground Subways

**Well, hello, readers. I'm bored, and kind of tired, so I decided to write out one of the prompts I've been harboring for a bit. It can't make up an entire story, but it's still pretty cool, if I do say so myself.**

 **Also, if you're also super bored, don't stay like that! PM me, please! I mean, I have homework, but I'd much rather chat with someone.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Annabeth's a poor and exhausted woman riding the subway home, and suddenly this really handsome guy stumbles into her-**

The heavily graffitied glass doors opened in front of Annabeth with a clunk. She lithely stepped over the dark crack between the station and the subway and onto the spotted and stained floor. Her holey gray Converses dragged against its rubbery surface.

She quickly surveyed the train she got into. It was pretty empty, because Annabeth's minimum-wage job let out late, but only a handful of seats were bare. The small crowd behind her muttered and clumped inside. Annabeth shook off her heavy, ever-present cloak of exhaustion for a second and rushed to one of the hard plastic benches.

Suddenly a wail sounded by her shoulder. She turned to see a thin, frail woman with lines drawn all over her face, holding a raggedly bundle of cloth to her chest. A tiny fist shot out of the yellowing cloth, grasping at empty air before retreating back to its snug enclosure. A stream of irritated wails followed.

The woman shuffled toward and gave Annabeth an embarrassed, mournful look. The baby stared crying and shrieking. Wrinkles deepened in the woman's forward.

Annabeth immediately stepped, back hostile but also feeling pity. The old-looking woman scooted forward and creakily lowered herself onto the bench. Her whole body seemed to sink and relax when she finally got off her small feet.

Annabeth could sympathize. She looked around the train, her lids lowered in exhaustion, and saw no more empty seats. With a slow sigh, she dragged herself to the metal pole in the center of the subway and leaned against it.

With a low rumble, the subway came to life and sped forward. A headache began in Annabeth's temples. She wanted to curl up in a giant four-poster bed with a goose-down duvet and huge fluffy pillows…

Two subsequent beeps startled her into waking up. She immediately straightened against the pole, her eyes flying open. She frantically searched for the source of the sound. The two doors creaked open, allowing inside a giant crowd of people, and thumping footsteps drowned out the low, mechanic voice of the intercom.

Annabeth's brain turned sluggishly. She stared out through the doorway and at the signs in the subway station. She was at the next stop already? It felt like she fell asleep only two seconds ago.

The crowd coming her way was far more urgent. She pressed against the metal rod, feeling its coldness penetrate her stiff spine, as people streamed by pass her, finding their own spot in the train.

Most people left her alone, but the crowd coming inside seemed endless, and soon there were no other spots to stand. A few college students grabbed onto the pole from the other side of her.

People continued to squeeze inside. A tall guy in a giant parka pushed past her and grasped another pole, but their sides brushed. A scowling mother and her bratty entourage of kids forced their way through, glaring at everyone in the way. And when a guy with crutches hobbled inside, accidentally bumping a few shins, complaints flew into the air.

Finally, the warning beep over the door sounded, and with a low groan, the door began to close. Two people pushed through, speeding into the packed train breathlessly, and then the subway rattled forward. Annabeth leaned her head on the cold, hard pole and stared out the windows into darkness, robustly trying to not fall asleep.

Suddenly someone muttered, "Excuse me," and emerged in front of her. Annabeth looked up, her sleepiness forgotten for a few seconds as she met a pair of glittering green eyes.

They were sea green, she realized. Sparkling and glowing like fires in the dimly-lit train. The deep hues swirled like waves, like watercolor paint flowing and mixing haphazardly but beautifully.

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes continued to rove across the face in front of her. Long, dark eyelashes. A mop of messy raven hair. Tanned skin, a few sparse freckles scattered across the bridge of his perfect nose. Full lips, long sloping cheekbones, and a jaw that could cut glass.

"Um, hey?" The guy asked hesitantly in a smooth, deep voice.

Annabeth blinked. Haziness regrettably entered the cracks of her mind again. "Oh, uh, hi." She blushed at having caught staring. Her gaze flickered to the gray floor for a second before lifting back onto his all-too-handsome face.

He reached over, his long fingers stretching out by her head. She stared at his tan skin, confused, before the ground under her jolted. The world tilted as her whole body was thrown back. Her spine hit the pole and pain shot through her torso. The man in front of her was flung onto her, his hands flying out and clamping onto her arms. He was warm and heavy, and his long fingers around her forearms were calloused and gentle. Their chests were pressed together, and she could feel his rapid heartbeat over her own. Her head swam as she stared into his vivid green eyes. They seemed to have a golden glow coming from inside.

The scare was over, and the subway continued on smoothly. But Annabeth and the man were frozen in time, expressions panicked and eyes locked together. Finally, Annabeth's knuckles loosened on the pole behind her and the man slowly peeled himself off her. His expression morphed into a relieved, lightened one.

"Oh, um, wow." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"Oh, no, it's fine." Her cheeks warm as she straightened herself, but her mind was still replaying the feel of his muscular chest on hers. "Are you…okay?"

He smiled, and a warm ray of sunlight shone in Annabeth's heart. "I'm good. You?"

"Still alive."

He let out a laugh that sounded like pure happiness. "Great. I'm happy to see that." His gaze turned more intense. "Now that we've just been well acquainted, I would like to know your name. I'm Percy Jackson."

 _Wow,_ she whispered inside her head. _That's beautiful, even if it shouldn't be._ Her heartbeat quickened. "I'm Annabeth Chase. Nice to meet you."

The formal greeting prompted Percy to hold out a hand, and the rough callouses and soft touch sent a million butterflies into her gut. "Nice to meet you too. Where are you going?"

"I'm getting off at the stop after this one."

His eyes brightened with the force of a thousand twinkling stars. "Me too! Where do you live?"  
Annabeth would've normally shielded away from this question, but Percy was so warm and smiling. "132 Street, the fourth building."

Percy's eyes widened, revealing more emerald green than Annabeth thought possible. "I'm in the fifth building."

Annabeth couldn't help but gasp. "Wow. We're basically neighbors."

"I can't believe I haven't seen you before. You're so pretty, I never would've forgotten you."

Annabeth's cheeks flamed. She mustered an uncomfortable smile. Guys would whistle or catcall at her, but that was it. It was a long time since someone flirted with her, but never as friendlily as Percy. "Um, thanks. I-I haven't seen you around either."

"Well, this is awesome. I can't believe we're on the same street, Annabeth. When did you move in?"  
She stared at the floor. "A few months ago." Her old apartment was much, much worse. It was the size of a closet and grew mold everywhere. It was better than being out on the streets, but she much rather hang out with Thalia and Luke, her honorary family, instead of having a semi-clean floor to sleep on. The whole time, while slowly getting driven crazy by the sound of broken water pipes, she was regretting everything she did in New York. But she couldn't get Thalia or Luke back.

"Not to be nosy, but why 132? Or was it the only place with an empty apartment?"

"Yeah, pretty much. And my old place sucked."

"Tell me if I'm getting personal, kay? Why are you in New York? You don't have a tried-and-true accent."

She winced. She got here because her real family sucked. Because she would've followed Thalia and Luke everywhere. And when they were gone, she had nowhere to go. "Uh, me and my friends came here. And then I sort of struck out on my own."

He looked apologetic. "New York can be really tough sometimes." He touched her arm. "But it can also be a wonderful place, trust me. I grew up here and a part of me will always love it."

"Yeah, well, I do think it's pretty awesome," she admitted. "It's just that the apartments are expensive."

Percy laughed loudly. "I know, right. But I'm glad you decided to stay." He gave her a warm smile that made everything better.

She was glad too. "Yeah, now I have a new neighbor to look forward to. You gonna bring me a plate of coffee cake?" She joked.

Percy grinned at her. "Actually, my mom bakes THE BEST chocolate chip cookies in the world. They're blue, and they're awesome. Can I bring you some?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, okay, sure. I'm floor 8, room 809."

He beamed. "Yes! You will love them. And I promise not to come in with an axe and steal your money."

"I don't have any money, Percy," she said with a laugh. "Good luck with that."

He threw out an arm, accidentally hitting an old guy immersed in a book, who continued to ignore them. "I don't have money, either. But who cares? We can smile, we can live, we can love." His voice lowered for the last part, and he looked at her bashfully.

Alarm blared through her head. She stared at him wide-eyed.

Percy quickly coughed and looked away. "Okay, so, when sound I come? Just in case you're holding some rip-roaring party with a bunch of celebrities and you don't want this weirdo you met on a subway showing up with a plate of homemade cookies."

Annabeth laughed. "Please, my apartment could not fit more than two people at once." She paused, then added, "Weirdo."

"Hey!" he exclaimed before turning more serious. "But if your apartment is that small, all the more perfect for us."

She blushed. "Uh, sure."

"So, what time?" He cocked his head at her.

"I'm not really doing anything Thursday night."

"Okay. Oh, I'm not doing anything either." His eyes glowed like well-polished emeralds. "Why don't I bring a pile of snacks and my laptop! You don't have to agree, but do you want to watch some movies?"

She pursed her lips. She rarely did that kind of stuff now. "Sure. Which ones? I have a specific taste in films."

"Me too. Disney is the best, right?"

She choked out a laugh. "Seriously?"

He frowned at her jokingly. "I am completely seriously here, Annabeth Chase. Disney is awesome. We're watching a bunch of it on Thursday and that's that." He crossed his arms, cementing his statement.

"Well, okay, fine. I can't wait." She couldn't even muster up the sarcasm.

Over the doorway, there were two more beeps and the light flashed. The doors slowly opened and Annabeth readied herself to push her way out. But before she moved, she quickly looked behind her.

Percy was grinning down at her. "Well, come on!" He grabbed her hand, and the contact startled her so much she was almost lost in the crowd before Percy started tugging on her arm.

Snapping back to life, she followed him outside.

 **Okay, that's it. I better go do homework. Yeah, I'm not exactly the greatest student.**

 **Au revoir,**

 **Pride-and-loyalty**


	3. One Dancing Commoner

**I have actually been wanting to write this for a while, even though I don't like this prompt that much. Probably because I don't really know anything about the topic. But I'll try to make it accurate-looking.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Percy's a nerd who accidentally finds Annabeth dancing-**

Annabeth sucked in a deep breath, feeling her chest expand under her sweat-absorbing, athletic-style shirt. Familiar opening notes, slow and soft, sounded behind her. Her internal clock began counting. _One, two._

Then she allowed herself to loosen up with a small smile, and sprang into motion. Her arms lifted up, curling and curving in the air, as if trying to snatch the louder, more rhythmic notes. She spun at the waist, her messy bun flopping against her neck, pulling her arms back against her chest, in such perfect synchronization with the music that she barely listened to it.

The music heightened, growing faster. Her limbs were in a race to see which one, in the right order, could move the fastest, but in reality, she stayed right on every beat.

One leg out, lean to the left, see everyone else's reflections in the wall-length mirror lean at the same time. Curl it back in, extend an arm, tilt head back just as five other people did. The bright, almost blinding fluorescent lights beamed into the mirror, reflecting everywhere and sparking up their focused, no, entranced expressions and their smiles as they turned and moved in the music.

The song was at its chorus, the beat slowing down slightly and a delicate background tune of harps weaving into the sound. Annabeth's arms rested at her sides, now relying on her feet to find the right patterns on the cherrywood floor and her waist to spin her quickly and gracefully. Between small, puffing breaths, she was aware of heat spreading under her skin, a thin layer of sweat on the back of her neck. And then the chorus was quieting, her internal clock whispered, _Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two_ , she was arching her arms over her head, and all thoughts whisked out of her head.

She was completely lost in the movements and the different beats the song played, her blood pulsed, her feet thudded against the floor until the last whispering note trailed off. A small breath escaped her lips. Behind her, there was a low bump.

It was like the lights sharpened, the floor grew cold under her feet again, and her senses were back in working order. The song played on disconcertingly, ignored by everyone now. Annabeth turned around, alarmed, and found one of her teammates sprawled at the floor, with everyone else staring at her.

Calypso Ogygia glanced up wearily. "Oh, no, I'm fine," she told them. "I just needed to take a break. This song is really fast."

Hazel Levesque, her chest moving up and down slowly, nodded. "Yeah, it is. How are you adjusting to it?"

Calypso stretched out her milky arms. "Well, for a gardener, I'd say I did alright."

Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano brushed a long, inky strand of hair out of her eyes. No matter what rapid tango or pop song they did, their leader never lost composure by sweating. "Yes, you did very well. I'm impressed by how far you've gotten."

Thalia Grace huffed a little, leaning against the long mirror. "Yep. And it's the first time I didn't butcher anything up with this song, so I've gotten quite far too."

Still stretching and pacing in place, Piper McLean looked over at her. "That's really impressive," she said seriously.

Thalia narrowed her lightning-blue eyes. "McLean," she said warningly.

Piper grinned mischievously. It was the exact same grin, Annabeth realized, that she wore in a picture on the front page of the newspaper, driving a stolen Mercedes Benz. "Fine," she conceded.

Hazel turned to Annabeth. "You were seriously fast on this song. Congratulations." She offered one of her appraising smiles.

Annabeth smiled back happily. Hazel was really nice, but they still took her compliments seriously. "Thanks. You were, too."

Thalia raised a black eyebrow at both of them. "You really had time to notice each other's postures while trying to keep up with this song?"

"Come on, Thalia, Annabeth and I have been doing this for a long time. We might as well examine the rest of you." They shared conniving grins while Thalia looked slightly ticked off.

Reyna held out two olive-skinned hands. "Girls," she said quietly.

Hazel and Annabeth turned two apologetic-and slightly scared-smiles towards their leader, completely ignoring Thalia.

Piper, meanwhile, let out a snort. "Oh, I love this kind of dance drama," she whispered to Calypso. "And we newbies will only ever be witnesses as they sort out their long-standing feuds."

Thalia glared at Piper. "Go watch _Dance Moms_ on Netflix instead of dramatizing everything." This did nothing to defer Piper, whose snorts got louder and louder.

Reyna looked irritated and resigned, like, _I should be competing in nationals, not this_. When the rest of them caught on to her darkened eyes, they immediately shut up.

Reyna nodded, pleased, and strode into the center of the floor. "Today's practice is going to run short, because I know you're all tired from work." Annabeth involuntarily glanced to the corner, where a mustard-stained apron lay on top of bookbags and backpacks, plus a stack of dirty working shoes. "One run through our song is enough. Good work. Thalia, I did see that you did everything right. Keep it up. Piper, try to smile more. Express your love for dancing. Calypso and Hazel, excellent as always." She turned to Annabeth, her face revealing nothing about how she felt. "Watch your form. And remember your expression. But you did great."

Annabeth flushed happily. Reyna always masked her approval in all sorts of different ways. She was always peculiar when it came to Annabeth, but she'd learned to read her over the years. "Thank you," they all chorused sweetly.

"This practice is over. You may leave. Remember, seven o'clock in the morning, Saturday, for our next practice." They weren't exactly an official group, they only performed occasionally on request, but they were still very serious about keeping in shape. At least, Reyna was. They all grinned at her, picked themselves up from the floor, and went over to the pile of bags. Chatter immediately commenced.

"Oh, I have to visit some Cherokee appreciation museum later," Piper mused as she checked her phone.

"I thought you liked your culture," Hazel said in confusion as she untied her frizzy brown hair.

"I do, but I'm going with my dad to help him prepare for a new movie, and he always acts weird when it comes to that." Piper sighed into her stretchy exercise top that she was pulling off.

"Um, I'm not sure if you haven't noticed, but dads just don't get any better," Thalia said flatly as she slid extra leather/sliver/studded bracelets onto her already packed wrists.

Calypso stopped rifling through her gym bag and stared at them with mournful almond-colored eyes. "I'm really sorry for all that," she said softly. "I will still care about you guys."

Piper broke into a grin and hugged her. "Aw, thanks, Caly."

Annabeth couldn't help but smile as she watched them. Suddenly a long braid brushed her shoulder, and she found Reyna appearing at her side. "So, how was your day?" she asked.

She stared at her with wide eyes. Was she being conversational? Reyna offered her a quick, fleeting smile as she stepped out of her yoga pants to fitted dress ones.

"It was fine. I had to meet with my manager, but it was a pretty boring meeting." They shared a knowing look, as only the both of them were professional dancers, even though Annabeth held up a ton of other jobs to get to that stage. "I have a night of binge-watching crime shows ahead of me."

Reyna laughed a little. "That sounds nice. Don't eat too much takeout."

"How did you know I would?" she asked in mock surprise.

To her shock, Reyna actually let out a full laugh. "Well, we've been working together for almost a decade. Every time I visit your apartment there's a Chinese takeout box on your coffee table."

"That sounds exactly like Annabeth," Hazel said, butting in. "You can cook pretty well, why don't you?"

She sheepishly smiled at them as she pulled a soft cardigan around her shoulders, not bothering to change. "I can't be bothered to. There's plenty of great order-in restaurants down the street."

"You need a health-freak roommate," Hazel decided. "How do you even keep in shape?" She gestured to Annabeth's abdomen, which they kept insisting had a six pack. (It was her body, she knew exactly what was there-or, what wasn't.)

Annabeth chewed on her bottom lip. "Watching TV shows on my iPad which I put on the running machine."

Reyna grinned. "Well, it seems to work."

She was laughing and chatting along when something at her hip buzzed. She tugged her phone out of her coat pocket and checked the alert on her screen. "Oh, I have to pick something up at the post office. Like, right now. Bye!" She waved and stepped out of the dance room into the chilly front hall. Shivering a little, she slowed mid-step and glanced around the long marble room, wondering why they couldn't install a working heating system. At least their dance room had one, or else she didn't think she'd be able to move.

She was running a long, familiar rant about getting better facilities through her head when she spotted someone to there. It was a guy, with messy black hair, stunning sea-green eyes, and _oh jeez he was_ hot _!_ Any essence of intelligence left her mind as those sparkling eyes found hers.

"Oh, um, uh, hi," he stuttered, the confidence in those eyes draining and his gaze falling to the speckled floor. Annabeth felt like sinking to the floor in disappointment. _Get a grip!_ She tried to tell herself, but she could hardly manage the thought.

"Hi," she said back in the quietest voice possible, and then, louder, "Hhi!"

He didn't seem bothered by the fact that she clearly couldn't pronounce basic words correctly. "I-uh, just, um, saw you inside, so, like, I-you're really good, uh, I thought it, um, actually, I just-don't listen to, uh, me." By the time he was done, he was flushing like a tomato.

Annabeth hardly paid attention to what he said. She was just staring at that tanned Adam apple bob whenever he swallowed, or those smooth cheeks shifting as he spoke, and that jaw outlined against the beige walls of the lobby.

"S-sorry," he mumbled when he noticed her silence. "I'm, um, wast-wasting your time. Sorry, again." He backed up, his head moving up and down in some strange language of awkwardness.

Annabeth dragged herself out of the mindless void and held up a hand. "No, no, it's fine. I like listening to you—I mean, I don't mind."

The guy was so red she could hardly make out his features. "But sorry, I know I, uh, sound like a stalker, staring at you dance…"

She tried not to smile. "No, you don't, it's okay. You seem perfectly fine, wait, what's your name?"

He looked up, startled. "Percy. Percy Jackson. Well, Perseus Jackson, but I, um, go by Percy."

"Oh. Nice to meet you, Percy." That sounded so good on her tongue. "I'm Annabeth Chase." She held out her hand, and going crimson, he lightly grasped it and shook it. Sparks jumbled around her hand and her cheeks were heating up, too.

"Hi, Annabeth." He smiled at her, his beautiful eyes meeting her for more than three seconds before dropping to her chin.

She grinned back, feeling her heart thud and her stomach twist and realizing she was falling for him so quickly she couldn't even stop herself.

They just stood there in their own world, staring and grinning at each other, in a perfect little bubble. Suddenly, Annabeth's phone buzzed again. They both jumped in the air.

Trying to mask her huge grin, she checked the screen. "Please pick up your package," the mail office texted her again. "We only have one employee who's leaving soon."

She tried to smooth out her expression to something acceptable as she looked back at Percy. "Sorry, I have to pick up a package from the office. I don't want to go, but, yeah." Another shared smile, another few seconds in their world.

Then Annabeth had to forcibly break her eyes from his and say her goodbyes before leaving. As she strode out into the cold air, wind bit at her cheeks, but she hardly noticed anything past the flush on her cheeks and the giddy smile on her lips.

The next practice, on Thursday, Annabeth had many things on her mind. An email from her father in her inbox, a possible date for her to dance at some fancy hall, and of course, a particular boy she'd just met. Percy Jackson.

So, of course, she didn't dance as well. In fact, she was hardly dancing. As the rhythm to a newer song escalated, her feet slowed and stumbled over each other. Her arms were tossed out and pulled back like she was lazily scattering grain into a barren field. As everyone else leaned to the left, her feet moved out to the right. When she caught sight of her messy, out-of-order motions in the mirror, she grimaced, which of course stuck out like a sore foot against everyone else's smiling, pleasant faces.

Finally, Reyna sighed and went to the Bose speaker, shutting it off. The upbeat track, with a hint of electric keyboard just appearing, silenced. She frowned and stared at Annabeth with dark eyes. "Well?"

She sighed, flopping onto the ground. "I'm just not into it, I guess. I'm too distracted by all kinds of things."

Suddenly, Piper was making her way across the floor and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

Reyna stared at her. "Can you get it together and focus for the rest of practice?"

She nodded. "Yes, yes, sorry." She stood up, smiled at Piper as she left for her spot, and spread her feet out in ready stance. "Let's start again."

This time, she followed the beat as closely as possibly, only a few milliseconds off. Every time a hint of something else other than the song appeared in her mind, she squeezed her eyes shut, squared her shoulders, and tried to put even more effort into her dance. By the time the room was quiet again she'd almost returned to her usual skill.

"Good job," Reyna said. "I'm going to play it again."

This try went without a hitch, her breathes slowly melding to the beat, her heart speeding up with the extortion, trickles of sweat curving down her face as she moved about faster and more energetically. Twirl, twirl, twirl, swoop downwards, reach for the ceiling, hug your torso… the movements swirled inside her, ready to ascend.

Giggles bubbled out from someone behind her as they did an old dance move, all elbows and shaking hips. This was more of a blend than modern dance, but their songs were all mostly the lyric-less backtracks of pop songs. In fact, for the newest Top 40 tunes, Annabeth caught Piper and sometimes Thalia humming the words under their breath. But their playlist extended all the way to the seventies, further back depending on request. Their moves… came from everywhere.

The rhythm still pulsed inside of her when the last note sounded and they stilled. Reyna clapped. "That was good, girls. I liked today's performance. I'm going to work one by one with some of you, but relax for now."

Annabeth's shoulders drooped and she sank her weight into her heels. Once her heartbeat calmed a little, she lowered herself to a crouch on the gleaming floor. Beside her, Thalia was completely sprawled out, casually checking her black nails. Piper was doing her regular routine of pacing before sitting. So, it was Hazel, edging over to Annabeth. "Hey, earlier you seemed completely distracted. Are you alright?"

She rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I'm fine. I had a lot of things on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hazel asked cautiously.

Annabeth stared at the ground. "Well, my father sent me an email earlier."

Hazel stared at her with round gold eyes. "Really? Wow." She knew how things worked in Annabeth's family.

"He said he was fine, his last checkup wanted him to do more exercise, blah blah blah. The usual stuff. It was pretty much as short as his usual emails. But then he decided to say he missed me and he wanted to see me."

Hazel sat still with a shocked expression. A flicker of jealously seemed to dash across her bright eyes. Finally, she swallowed and said, "That's great, Beth. Are you going to do it?"

"I-I don't know. I'm not sure if I can. I mean, he's made efforts before. None of them, well, really worked."

Hazel's hand found hers. "Do you think having a father again is worth it, though?"

"Again, I'm not sure. I haven't had one for so long…"

Hazel hugged her tightly. Piper plopped down beside her, noticed their expressions, and turned somber herself. "Big troubles?" she questioned.

"No, not really." She stared at her legs, sprawled out in front of her. "Indecision."

Piper cocked her head. "Well, you're the smartest person ever. You'll make the right choice."

She turned to her, looking for signs of joking. "Thanks. But I really don't know. And it's fine. Let's move on."

While they chatted about having a brunch at the new diner around the corner, her mind wandered. To her last practice, where she met someone, and found herself completely enamored.

It started with his looks, of course. He looked like he belonged in a designer underwear ad. And then it was his bashful stuttering that squeezed her heart with its adorableness. And then how nice he was, really.

 _This is nonsense_ , she decided. _I have to actually get to know him if I want something to happen._

"Annabeth?" Piper said, waving her uncared-for hand in front of Annabeth's face. She slowly edged back from her friend's bitten nails. "What?"

"You've been out for, like, ten minutes," Hazel said. "What are you thinking about?"

Percy's sea-green eyes popped into her mind, and she blushed.

"Ooh," Piper said, wiggling around excitedly. "Something very interesting, it seems."

Annabeth crossed her arms, trying to clear her mind. "Not really. Okay, kind of. Maybe."

Piper and Hazel both leaned in, but Hazel looked a bit nervous.

"Relax, Hazel," Annabeth said. "It's not a big deal. Really." The last part was for herself, though it didn't do any convincing. Piper impatiently gestured for her to go on.

"Um, it was just that yesterday, outside this room, I saw—"

"Piper!" Reyna called. "Let's practice together. Hazel, start the song at 12 minutes 40 seconds." They both bashfully got up and went over to her, sending back apologetic expressions back to Annabeth. She felt slightly embarrassed and disappointed, which was strange.

Annabeth tried to go through the dance as stoically as before. She kept a sharp eye on her reflection and tried to keep her breaths to the beat. But the music was so familiar to her that she couldn't continue reminding herself of her performance or the fancy hall they were going to be in. Her mind slipped straight back to her usual topic of musing, which was that mystery boy. This building generally hosted dance rooms and a couple of grand pianos. She wasn't sure what he was doing there. Maybe he was also a dancer, but he didn't have a gym bag or anything with him, and she didn't expect people to come in and out of here with the same set of clothes. He could've been the janitor and too embarrassed to mention it…he was flushing a lot when they talked…but she'd never seen him around. Maybe he was a newbie…?

Annabeth jumped at a snap right in front of her face. Reyna was facing her, clearly fuming. "Annabeth! Why are you two beats behind everyone?" The music stopped all of a sudden as Hazel crept over to the speakers.

"I'm sorry." She rubbed her forehead.

"You clearly can't get it together today. But Calypso needs to work on her footwork, and Piper's smile is still off, and we've got tons of work to do before the performance this weekend! Go home and grab a shower. You can practice on your own."

Everyone waited silently for Annabeth to get her things. "I'm sorry," she muttered to Reyna.

She nodded at her dismissively. "It happens to everyone," she said so quietly Annabeth almost thought she imagined it.

To her building dismay, the lobby was empty of one Percy Jackson. Annabeth's shoulders slumped and she trudged out of the building. She was so busy staring at her feet that she didn't notice she was walking into someone before she was on her back.

Percy's bright green eyes loomed in her vision as he peered at her worriedly. "A-Annabeth? Are you okay?"

She gave him a stiff smile and quickly got up, wiping herself off. "Um, yeah, I'm fine."

"You seem a little, um, distracted." He winced.

"I am." She sighed a little. "I couldn't keep it together during practice."

"Why not? Is everything fine?"

She bit her lip. She didn't want to keep the truth from him. "Um…well, I was kind of thinking of you." His eyes shot up to meet hers, and they both immediately looked away.

Percy's mouth opened slightly, and he was quiet for a moment. "Wow. Uh." He paused. "Me too." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I wanted to see you again today, but the guard wouldn't let me in. He figured out I was just a lost wanderer."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you came in."

He blushed. "So am I."

"I'm going home to practice on my own. Do you…" she paused hesitantly. "Want to watch?"

His eyes brightened. "Yes. Please."

Grinning, they both set off together.

 **Wow. I finished this a year later. It's not that great but, I don't know, hopefully someone will enjoy this? Anyway, I'll be sending out a couple in a row, just to finish up two that have been sitting unfinished in my folder and may this other prompt. By the way, the title is based on "Twelve Dancing Princesses." A parody of that would've probably been more interesting. Oh well.**

 **Au revoir,**

 **Pride-and-loyalty**


	4. Model Manager

**Hi, guys. I know, I have no priorities. Actually, I've been pushing this off for a while, like the first part is from literally months ago. I hope I don't have a huge break in style or voice though…or maybe I do because if my writing is still the same that would be depressing.**

 **Anyways, I sort of just love this idea. It has a pretty broad span, so I hope someone can adopt it. You can just take this part and stick in the ending or something.**

 **So yeah, that's it. Don't expect a sensical Story Arc, though. I basically had a totally random idea and ran off with it.**

 **Enjoy!**

 _ **-**_ _Annabeth is one of the most successful top supermodels who wants out and Percy just got himself into a new job he's not sure if he wants (so far)-_

"Seriously, what is even the point of those people?" A young girl with spiked blond hair pointed at a faded H&M ad of a group of friends jumping around in beanies. "Like, what do models even do?"

Her friend shrugged, peeling the plastic wrapper off a bright-red Twister. "You know. Get signed by companies, wear fancy clothes. Or maybe not."

"Yeah, basically, _nothing_ ," she rolled her eyes. "And supermodels. They literally strut around prettily for a living."

Annabeth's loose stroll stopped in the center of the sidewalk. She noticed herself unconsciously shrinking smaller, but made no effort to straighten. She couldn't stop her yearning to hear the rest of the conversation.

The second girl toed the dusty cement with her stained high tops. "True. And they all look the same, don't you think?"

In her mind's eye, she saw a million different shades of skin revolving down a runway, all the stickers on her suitcase from all the places she got to travel to, and a wall full of faces beautiful in their own way. Her eyes narrowed slightly in the shadow her hat threw over her face

The original, fiercer girl carelessly slammed her Slushy onto the cement beside her, spraying colored flecks of ice everywhere. "And they starve themselves so they look pretty and which causes other girls to get eating disorders."

Annabeth felt her flat, toned stomach clench uncomfortably. By now she had completely stopped in the middle of the street, standing just a few feet away from the adolescents sitting on the dirty floor. Anger seeped into her mind. Supermodels did not starve themselves. They devoted themselves to having healthy bodies. Annabeth stuffed herself daily so she wouldn't pass out in the gym. How was the rest of the world so oblivious to this fact?

Then again, Annabeth didn't recognize a whole lot of stores and restaurants on her little runaway stroll. She was pretty out of touch with the world, too.

"But do you know what I hate the most?" The girl sneered at the H&M ad again. "None of them have any brains or sense. They're all so stupid!"

Annabeth's fists clenched, and the veins that popped up to the surface of her arms grazed the inside of her baggy sleeves. Her temper was boiling.

Her jaw was parting, ready to shoot verbal arrows at the two ignorant girls when the second one spoke up. "Yeah, and why would they choose something like that? A life full of exercising and trying on pretty clothes and getting their pictures taken?"

Annabeth suddenly remembered something from back when she was five. A lot of guests had gathered in their living room for a dinner party, and Annabeth was playing with her stuffed owl as the adults chatted. Suddenly one of them: her fragmented memory only revealed a pair of rhinestone-crusted glasses on a plain, adult face, looked over at Annabeth, offered her a doting smile, and then spoke to her stepmother Susan. "Look at Annabeth's perfect little face and chubby cheeks! She's perfect for being a model!"

Susan had cocked a thin black eyebrow in surprise. "Annie here? Maybe."

Annabeth still remembered the taste of green beans in her mouth as the whole group of adults studied her. Susan didn't mention it further, but the talk continued at a stubbornly fast pace. People on the street would smile extra wide at her and comment on her "princess curls", and sometimes when she went clothes shopping the saleslady would pull Susan to the side and chat for a bit.

Eventually, they had flew up to LA to a professional photo studio. The agency immediately approved, lead her inside a spotless studio, snapped a few pictures that were released out to all the great brands. Everything went uphill from here. Agents after agents sent their kitchen phone ringing off the hook, awed by her ever-growing portfolio and her charming looks. By the time Annabeth was fifteen, if she visited one of the bigger shopping malls, her face would be plastered on at least five storefronts. Clothes continued arriving in the mail for her to try on and advertise in her social media accounts that her publicity agent helped her managed. She trained every other day and taught newly signed girls. She slowly grew into a schedule that required a lot of travelling and changing clothes and irregular sleep hours and doing homework in makeup rooms.

And then she was sitting in a sleek lobby with a thick stack of fine-print forms in front of her for her to sign. And with a single glance at her stepmother, impassive as always, she picked up an expensive fountain pen and wrote her name in long, curling letters on each of those black lines.

It was an incredible journey. She'd traveled to the corners of the world, meet thousands upon thousands of other beautiful girls with the exact same experiences as hers, and inserted herself into the peak of fashion.

But now that she looked back on at her journey, she felt a bit unsure. What exactly pushed her to it? The unwavering surge of encouragement from almost everyone they knew? She knew she used to be incredibly excited for everything, and agreed to pretty much everything she was offered, but she didn't remember if young Annabeth actually enjoyed doing so much modeling. A sigh puffed out of her lips. Well, she would never know now. She couldn't remember much of anything younger Annabeth felt, much less imagine it.

She continued striding down the street, trying to make the most of her down time. She could feel her diamond Omega watch throbbing on her wrist; she didn't have so much time left to be wandering around, and she wasn't about to spend her time berating some good-for-nothings.

This particular back street was lined with tiny start-ups and hole-in-the-wall diners. She peered at the brightly illuminated brand names of the few beauty salons and boutiques, but recognized none. Instead, as she passed the narrow glass doors of a couple of clothing stores, the top-bun sporting salesladies had all eyed her body, under her sweatshirt ensemble, in a rather familiar way.

Her boots clomped louder on the pavement as she sped away. Honestly, picking this outfit wasn't exactly the best idea. It was featured in a recent Vogue edition. But Annabeth didn't know what "normal" looked like anymore, other than that a long trench coat over an all-black top and pants would be rather conspicuous. It was the perfect solution, too, because nothing in her closet quite resembled what the two girls hunched by the H&M sign wore.

She had picked a giant vintage Yves Saint Laurent dress with and coupled it with a baggy, collared coat from Givenchy. There was no bag on her arm. She found that she owned absolutely no loose pants so she had to go with ancient, discrete Victoria Sport leggings. Anything was better than revealing her skin to the public.

But surprising even Annabeth herself was how she liked the feel of the heavy, unmatching layers against her body, and how it wore her movements down and how she could no longer sense cold wind against her skin. Along with her Marc Jacobs sunhat, she could be some moldy old aunt with a attic full of inherited vintage designer clothes. Not number six on "America's Top 10 Hottest Supermodels" sprint-walking away from her studio and praying her agent hasn't called the Coast Guard already.

The rose gold second hand on her watch ticked incessantly, reminding her she was running out of time. She had to head back. Tilting her head back, she slowly filled her lungs once again with clean suburb air. Her hat slipped off her head, and the hairband holding her bun together with it, and she could feel her hair tumbling down her back in unraveling waves. Like some kind of magnet under the sun, everyone was stopping and staring. Her bare features were also harshly exposed to the streets. hunching down, she grabbed her hat. And then she ran.

There was probably no actual need for running, but Annabeth still did it, trying to escape. Her business Mercedes pulled up soon alongside her, free from wandering the streets, and she pulled herself in, sighing as she fell onto the beige leather seats. Argus blinked at her from the front seat.

"Back to the studio, thanks." And then, pressing her naked cheek onto the tinted glass, she closed her eyes.

-line break-

It didn't take long for her agent to be appalled at her actions, scold her thoroughly, and then send her to makeup. Within an hour she was inside the photo studio with a camera pointed at her, draped out on a stiff velvet couch.

She shifted her hips a little on the cushion and tilted her head back, feeling her hair-gel drenched curls shift an inch across her arms. The wide lights on the side glared down at her, impatiently waiting for her to get into position. At this stage in her career, the cameraman was not expected to call out suggestions or corrections. Annabeth Chase was supposed to know how to model.

She did, of course, but none of her many sultry, downwards glances were coming to her. What used to be something she did in her sleep suddenly refused to mold into her features. They only continued to be twisted in…something. Apprehension? She didn't know.

"Annie," The cameraman drawled, waiting invisibly by his giant camera.

Annoyance burned inside of her, but Annabeth forced herself to think. She turned her head at the dark lens and stared straight into them, keeping her posture relaxed, letting her pupils grow unfocused. It was a look that was described to be half between lost in thought and mildly interested in the viewer. She didn't think a burning gaze, not that she could summon one, would suit her beachy outfit: a loose white spiderweb poncho tossed over absolutely shredded cutoffs and a long blue tank top with a narrow V-neck. The neckline was cut very…particularly, but she liked it better than some more bizarre outfits this brand had to offer. She knew changing would run long today.

The clicks of the camera shutters finally jolted her a little back to life. She rearranged herself on the sofa, leaning against the other arm, throwing a leg onto the top of the couch, and staring over her shoulder with her most rapturing gaze. More than once, a twinge of something depreciating darkened inside her. She went through the motions so unthinkingly, flaunting her body out for the world to see, pulling the tank top strap down her shoulder, fanning the ragged strips of her shorts over her muscular thigh.

At the satisfied snap, she turned and set her lips in her "mysterious allure" face (as her manager called it), arching her neck so her sharp jawline was bright under the lights. Her insides darkened further, but before she could do anything, the door slammed opened.

"Annabeth!" Her agent, Drew, beamed brightly, but she wasn't looking at her.

Standing inside Drew's arm was someone new Annabeth had never seen before. He was tall, built, tanned, piercing green eyes that lulled and pinned at the same time. His shoulders were bursting out of an ironed Ralph Lauren polo, and the gold buttons gleamed on his suit cuffs. He looked like any wealthy bachelor. But also different. He wasn't settling into Drew's arm, or leaning into the voluptuous body of the ex-model. And, most importantly to Annabeth, his combed black hair was already sticking out all over the place.

Her "mysterious allure" froze, then melted into shock and nervousness. Why she was nervous, she had no idea.

"This is Mr. Perseus Jackson! Say hi, Annabeth!" Drew's voice was loud and chirpy.

"Hi," she mumbled, struggling to hold his intense gaze. She suddenly didn't know to face him with an equally burning look, as if she hadn't done so millions of times in front of millions of people. And then, for some reason, she was imagining him sitting in the dark seats by the runways and watching her strut down and purse her lips at the audience, and her face darkened.

"How are you?" He asked politely.

"Good, you?"

"I'm very glad to meet you, Ms. Chase." Breaking the dull rounds of perfunctory back-and-forth, he strode forward, letting Drew's arm fall to her side, and shook her hand firmly. His fingers were warm, she thought absently, trying to grasp his hand as steadily. "I've heard and seen quite a lot of you."

She wished she could say the same, and not just so she could be polite back. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson."

"Call me Percy."

"Then thank you, Percy. Likewise, call me Annabeth."

"Yes, Annabeth."

They stopped and kind of smiled at each other. This was unexpected.

The cameraman leaned over to squint at her and mutter something in his utterly fake Italian accent. She quickly moved around, sprawling her arms across the top of the couch and letting her head drop down to her shoulder. But in case she looked like a million-dollar-worth couch potato, she curved one leg midair and let the other one stretch to the floor. Basically, not a position normal people would be in.

Annabeth turned to look away from the camera. In the corner of her eye, she spotted that pale Ralph Lauren polo again. Her cheeks tinged slightly, visibly, and the camera stopped clicking. Annabeth could almost hear the plastic in Drew's face crackle as she attempted to raise her eyebrow.

Annabeth immediately composed herself, looking up at the ceiling. But her eyes darted back to Percy once again. He wasn't ogling her, like most other men that had been in this room would. He was leaning against the wall and staring resolutely at the floor, but his eyes shifted up once, and instead of lingering at her legs or her cleavage, they met hers.

Annabeth clenched her jaw in an effort not to react. Something changed in his eyes. The camera stopped clicking, and Drew was threatening to change brands if they didn't get something less "boho-y." Annabeth dragged her gaze away and let an assistant lead her to the changing room.

When she got back, Percy was gone.

-line break-

"Annabeth?"

She spun around, startled at the all-too-familiar voice. It was Percy, in a plain, no-brand navy t-shirt. It looked incredible on him. Annabeth quickly dropped her glass on the table and slid it away from her. But she was sitting at the bar's most discreet corner table, right against the wall, so she could barely move it away.

"Um," she shifted around in her chair, feeling self-conscious. "Hi."

He walked closer. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

"Yeah, well, I'm here." She took off her Yankees hat. She clearly had no skill going undercover. This was a highly private place, only for entitled millionaires who would spend $130 for a glass, but of course he was part of that circle too.

To her surprise, Percy pulled out the chair across her. "Can I sit?"

"By all means." He flagged a waitress over and whispered his order to her. Annabeth wondered if he was trying to be flirty by that. She still couldn't get over the fact that he seemed so much like any other middle-aged, single, big-money jerks.

"Well, it's nice meeting you."

She looked up at him from under her mascara-ed eyelashes by force of habit. Drew always told her to respond prettily to anything like that from a rich man. And then she straightened and looked at him seriously. "Yeah." She took a sip from her glass, since he didn't lambast her about it yet. "The pleasure's all mine."

He didn't seem taken aback at her dry tone and laughed a little. "No, I'm being honest." He arched a raven eyebrow. "Can you do that too?"

Annabeth leaned back in her chair. "Sure." She didn't think she could if she tried. Most sincere thoughts were immediately beaten away in her head.

"Is that any good?" He gestured to her drink.

"It's alright."

"So, terrible?"

Annabeth tried to flatten her expression, but she was amused. He knew exactly how she was smoothing things over.

The waitress came back again and made a big show of leaning over to set down Percy's drink. He smiled kindly at her and nodded as she asked demurely if he was enjoying his time here. As she swaggered away, Percy's face puckered slightly. "I try not to wonder how much they do for tips."

Annabeth was surprised he noticed, since his eyes remained on her face the whole time. His drink made a small fizzing sound. It looked like it belonged in a cocktail glass. Percy laughed a little at her expression. "Do you want to try?"

"No, thanks." She wasn't sure if she trusted him yet. But he held his glass and studied her. He wasn't pushing her at all. So Annabeth cautiously took a sip.

Her eyebrows shot up. It tasted like something familiar, from a long time ago. "Is this Coke?" She eyed it. "Why is it blue?"

Percy laughed. "Haven't you heard of blue Coke? Why do you look so surprised?"

"I don't know. I haven't any sugary drinks in a while. I mostly stick to Perrier."

"Seriously?" Now he was staring at her incredulously, like she grew a second head. "Not even Diet Coke?"

"No. And it tastes terrible." He held up a hand, and she glanced at it peculiarly. "This is a high-five?"

"Oh." Her palm lightly bumped against his. It still shocked her how warm it was. She dropped it back onto the table.

"What's wrong with Coke? It won't hurt you."

"Actually, there are definitely health risks." At his glazed expression, she sighed. "You wouldn't get it. Your body isn't judged by the entire world on a day basis."

He blinked. "Yeah. I don't get it."

Annabeth paused. It sounded like he could've been offended. "No, I'm sure your job is a struggle, too, making sure we always look good." She put her cap back on. "Which is why I shouldn't be seen drinking here."

Percy laughed. "You're not hiding yourself very well, Chase. Sorry to break it to you." He shrugged. "I mean, you're putting it very nicely, but basically I make everyone see you models and want to spend money. I make sure young girls see the ads and realize they could never be so skinny, so pretty but want to be badly." He drained half of his glass. "I don't enjoy it."

"Why are you doing it, then?"

Percy raised his eyes. "I started out as an intern. Just a few years ago. As a favor to my mother. It was a family office with lawyers, I think. But an editor for a magazine snapped me up, because he wanted a certain face delivering coffee in the company, and I learned how this job pays." He sighed. "We don't all have trust funds from our moms helping us reach our dreams."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "You clearly didn't do enough background research on me, Jackson. Or maybe my old manager just wiped out everything. This wasn't a dream of mine. My stepmother decided to try it out, and I was a perfect fit for the designer companies."

"Then I could ask the same question. You could afford a new job."

"I'm used to modeling. I've never done anything else, Percy." She knew how that sounded and tried to divert the topic. "You didn't even answer me. You drive a Ferrari."

"Yeah. I don't know. I'm alright at this, and the huge paychecks just keep coming. I feel stuck and not against this enough to get out."

"And I can't imagine what it's like out there."

Percy tilted his head. "Anything you wanted to do?"

"Nothing in particular." He still started at her questioningly. He didn't buy her answer. "Well," she breathed out, "architecture."

He didn't raise an eyebrow or laugh. The last few ex-boyfriends she'd drunkenly admitted that to told her it would be a waste of her pretty face. And then they went back to making out, per usual.

"Interesting. For you, I hope. I can't say anything about it."

"Oh, come on. It's figuring out how to keep a building upright while making it visually appealing and versatile! And if you design something great, you're remembered forever."

"Like what?"

"Come on. The Eiffel Tower?"

He grinned. "I would be looking forward to seeing a… Chase Tower."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. He didn't even try to act smart. "Yeah, well, me too. Who knows?"

"Go for it! We could probably benefit from more tourism in New York." He smirked sarcastically.

"Thanks for supporting this idea and all, but what about you? Any idea of what you'd like to do?"

"Yes. Work at an aquarium." He smiled lazily. "But I certainly haven't been saving enough. I bought the Ferrari with my first paycheck."

"Then start stuffing bills into your piggybank for a couple of months. And leave."

"What about you?"

Annabeth released something between a laugh and a groan. "I swear, neither of us have the guts to do this on our own. What are we, peer-pressured middle schoolers?"

"Hey, hey, pipe down." He bumped her with his arm. "Then are you doing this or not?"

"Only if you are."

He held out his hand, and she took it. They got up, Percy making sure to leave a tip by his empty glass, and left the bar.

She didn't let go of his hand.

 **Yayay fluffiness. Okay, I really liked this one. Yes, one of my crazier dreams is to be a fashionista. Probably will not actually enjoy doing that, so I'll just stick to writing. Anyway, hope you guys feel inspired by this a little maybe…?**

 **Au revoir,**

 **Pride-and-loyalty**


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